Perception
by Dorienda
Summary: A


"So, is our next slayer Amish?" Xander asked.

"What?" said Giles, craning his neck to look at Xander, who was in the backseat of a rented car that had seen better days. He, Xander and Dawn were traveling down a desolate stretch of country back road that was illuminated solely by the car's high beams.

"You know, barn raising, buggy riding, Harrison Ford-hiding Plain Folk. I mean, we're in Pennsylvania Dutch country, right?"

The three of them had been driving all evening from New Jersey, deciding to take the scenic route through eastern Pennsylvania's farmland. Along the way, they encountered several buggies and many kitchy signs for Amish attractions before the sun finally set. 

"No, our next slayer is not Amish," Giles replied patiently, returning his gaze to the dark road. A large moth bounced against the windshield, leaving a powdery splotch on the passenger side of the glass.

"Too bad," Xander replied, "because that would have been something new. I mean, haven't you noticed that all of the slayers so far have been…"

"Pretty and perfect and possessing designer wardrobes?" Dawn piped up. "No, haven't noticed at all."

Giles' hands tightly clutched the wheel as he rounded several sharp curves. "Actually, we're headed to a place called…" He handed Dawn a map with the town's name highlighted in orange ink.

"Quarryville," she read.

"Yes, Quarryville," Giles repeated. "From what I've been told, it's a rather depressed area of Lancaster County. Our newest slayer lives in neighborhood called…"

Dawn picked up the cue and read the map again. "Pine View Mobile Home Park." Her voice trailed off with those last three words.

"Mobile home park, eh?" Xander nodded his head and protruded his lower lip as an image of the next slayer crept into his mind. "Maybe this will be interesting after all."

After recovering from the battle with The First, the Scooby Gang had split up, combing the corners of the world to find and train the new slayers. Giles requested to take Dawn along on his quest, as she had become his protégé. Dawn agreed, but on the condition that Xander – her adopted big brother – come along, too.

Despite Giles' initial protests to this, the three of them had become quite a team. Giles would wow the girls with tales of their newfound power, Dawn would relate to them on a teen-girl-to-teen-girl level, and Xander's mere appearance would keep the slayers grounded by reminding them of the evil and danger they were destined to fight.

So far, their task had been remarkably easy. All the slayers knew something was different about them, but couldn't pinpoint exactly what. Many started having vivid dreams about vampires and demons. Several had discovered their strength quite by accident – one was serving a tennis ball when the power took hold, causing the ball to smash through the fence surrounding the court. And most of the girls they met came from well-off and well-adjusted families.

After another half-hour of driving, the three of them arrived at the mobile home park. It was a muggy summer evening, and most of the residents were outside their trailers working on their trucks or drinking beer or cooking on portable grills. Country tunes were blaring from throughout the park, occasionally interspersed by gospel music.

"We're looking for lot number seven," Giles said, consulting his notes. "Dawn, where is that?"

"Sorry Giles, the map isn't that detailed."

"Right. Well, I supposed we'll have to ask." The three of them looked at each other wondering which one would be the first to muster the courage. Being surrounded by demons and vampires and fighting off apocalypses was kids' stuff compared to relating to people of a different socioeconomic level.

"Don't worry. I'll do it," Xander relented. "I'm the most blue collar of us anyway."

The three walked up to a woman who was playing dolls with her daughter on the steps of their tiny, rusted trailer.

"Excuse me," Xander said. "We're looking for lot number seven? The…" He quickly looked at Giles' notes. "…Tangert residence?"

"Tangerts, huh?" the woman replied. "Sure. Go out to the end of this alley, hang a right, and they're the third trailer on the left. Big brown and white trailer with a pink flamingo out front."

"Great! Thanks a lot."

The little girl's mouth hung in a perfect O shape as she eyed Xander.

"Are you a pirate, mister?" she asked.

"Dreama!" the woman scolded. "That's not very nice. This man just lost his eye, is all."

Xander smiled as he knelt down beside Dreama. He was so used to the cold stares and polite looks-away from adults that the frankness of this little girl charmed him. In Dreama's world, pirates wear eye patches – this strange man was wearing an eye patch, so what else could he be?

"Dreama, huh?" he said in the softest Captain Hook voice he could manage. "What a pretty name. I am indeed a pirate, and me and my two mateys are going to take the Tangerts on an adventure on the high seas!"

Dreama giggled as Xander tousled her dirty blond hair before he, Dawn and Giles headed down the alley.

The Tangert's trailer was actually adorned with two pink flamingos and a broken birdbath.

"Well, this must be it," Dawn said, gesturing toward the door. "Shall we?"

Giles nodded and knocked several times. No answer. He knocked again more forcefully. Still no answer. Xander then banged on the door and shouted, "Hello? Anyone home?" Giles simply stared at him.

"Sorry, Giles, but you have a very English way of knocking. It's not so much knocking as it is gently rapping on a chamber door."

"Quoth the raven…" Dawn remarked with a smirk.

"Yeah? Who is it?" A deep feminine voice emerged from inside the trailer.

"Yes. Is this…" Giles quickly consulted his notes again. "…Erica Tangert?"

There was a long pause before the voice replied, "You Mr. Giles?"

"Yes. Please, Erica, if you open the door, we can stop shouting at each other and talk like normal people!"

After a series of clicks, the door swung open. A husky girl with deeply sunken brown eyes and a mass of pimples stood in the doorway. She had rough knees and elbows and her hands were as thick as a plumber's. Her long, stringy hair was tied back with a pink ribbon. She was holding a tiny white kitten.

"Thank you, Erica. I'm Rupert Giles." He was relieved to talk in his normal British hush.

"Who're these people?"

"These are my associates, Dawn Summers and Xander Harris. They've been traveling the country with me seeking out new slayers and helping to prepare them."

"Hi, Erica," Xander said, holding out his hand. She didn't take it.

"What happened to your eye?"

"A preacher gouged it out," he replied. She didn't flinch. Somehow, he knew she wouldn't. 

"Yeah, well I never trusted preachers myself," she said. "My uncle was one, and I found him one time after services takin' dollar bills out of the collection plate. Said they was his 'tips' – like he was some damn waiter or somethin'."

"What did you do?"

"I told Daddy. Then he whupped me for tellin' lies 'bout his brother." She paused and set down the kitten, which trotted off to the kitchen. "Never went back to church after that."

"I'm sorry," Xander said. Erica shrugged, implying that it was simply a matter of course in her young life.

"Hi Erica. It's nice to meet you." Dawn held out her hand, which Erica ignored. She instead ran her eyes up and down Dawn's thin body.

"Girl, I could pick my teeth with you," she said matter-of-factly. Dawn was stunned – she supposed that in this rural world, thinness was not the desired shape. It was a jolting reminder just how far away from California she really was.

"It's so shiny," Erica said as she gently reached her hand to stroke Dawn's hair. "How do you get it so shiny?"

Dawn took a step back and stared at Erica. "Well, uh," she stammered, "I, um, wash it every day. Then I rinse it in cold water. And, um, oh yeah…I use de-frizzing spray before I blow dry it."

"De-frizzing spray?"

"Yeah, it's great stuff. I get it at the salon – it's only about ten bucks a bottle."

"You spend ten bucks on a bottle of hair spray?" Erica said incredulously. "You must be rich."

"Well, um, not really…" Dawn said, flustered at trying to find the right words.

"Erica," Giles said, rescuing Dawn from the awkward situation in which she placed herself. "I understand you live with your father. Is he home now?"

"No. He works second shift at the dairy plant down the road," Erica replied. Her face lit up. "Yous guys want some ice cream? Daddy gets it for free!" 

With that, she rushed off to the kitchen and flung open the freezer door on the tiny gold refrigerator. It was packed with stacks of brick-shaped cartons. "We've got chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, butter pecan, mint chocolate chip…"

"I'll have a scoop of butter pecan," Xander said.

"Xander!" Dawn scolded quietly.

"What? Since when can't I have ice cream?" he replied. "Besides, we'd insult her if we didn't take any."

"Here you go," Erica said as she handed Xander a bowl with five scoops. "How 'bout yous guys?"

"Scoop of vanilla," Giles said. "Dawn, you like chocolate, don't you?"

"Yes, chocolate," she replied resignedly. She glanced at Xander's overstuffed bowl and felt nauseous.

In moments, the four of them were seated at the round kitchen table diligently digging in to their ice cream. Erica helped herself to nearly half a carton of mint chocolate chip and topped it with a thick drizzle of Hershey's syrup.

"Erica," Giles said, most of his ice cream at this point lying in a puddle at the bottom of the bowl, "do you know why we came?"

"Yeah," she said, her mouth a smudge of chocolate. "Some English woman called me 'bout a month ago and told me you would. Said she was from an oven?"

"_Coven_," Dawn corrected. Erica stared at her, having never heard the word. "It's a group of witches."

"A group of witches? What, do they get together and dance around bonfires or somethin'?"

"What did the woman from the coven say to you?" Giles pressed.

"She told me I was a slayer. I said, what? She said, a _slayer_. A chosen one. That I was going to fight vampires for the rest of my life. I thought it was some crank call, so I was 'bout to hang up. But then she said somethin'…I don't know how she coulda known this…"

"What did she say?"

"That I hit my daddy with a baseball bat. Then she told me I had super strength and that a Mr. Giles would come by soon to train me."

Giles and Dawn exchanged perfunctory glances.

"Wait…a baseball bat?" Xander asked. "Was your dad abusing you? I mean, you said before that he _whupped _you…"

"Yeah. He whupped me pretty regular…I don't even remember what for anymore. Usually, he'd just hit me with the back of his hand, but one night about two months ago, he was drunk and real mad about somethin'. That's when he got the bat. He was gonna swing it at me when…all of a sudden, I felt like, this surge in me. Like I was struck by lightnin'. I felt like…shit, I felt like a Charlie's Angel! All strong and everythin'. I grabbed that bat and ripped it outta his hands and whacked him on the foot. Then I took it and broke it in two across my knee. I said, 'Don't you ever hit me again, Daddy.' And he hasn't since then. Hasn't touched a drink, either."

Erica rose from the table. "Yous want some more ice cream?"

"Did your father ever beat your mother?" Giles asked, oblivious to Erica's invitation.

"My mother's been dead since I was two. Died of cancer. It's just me and Daddy since."

"Wait a minute," Dawn said. "If he was beating you, why didn't you call the police? Or tell someone at school?"

"If I did, they would've taken Daddy away. Where would I have gone? Anyway, he doesn't beat me now."

"But what if he tries again?"

She shrugged. "I doubt he would. But if he does, I'll just hit him again – let him know I won't take that shit."

"Erica, would you please excuse us for a moment?" Giles said. "We, um…left some paperwork out in the car."

She nodded as she picked up the bowls of uneaten ice cream, plopped them in the sink, and began to wash them.

Outside the trailer, Giles gathered Dawn and Xander into a huddle.

"Her father beat her and she still stays with him," Giles lamented. "I cannot fathom that mindset."

"Must be a slayer thing," Dawn replied, briefly recalling Buffy's and Spike's tempestuous relationship before quickly changing the subject. "I can't believe she ate all that ice cream. I know I'm going to sound catty, but she could take better care of herself."

"Yes, she certainly could," Giles replied. "But she is a chosen one. We have an obligation to train her for her duty."

"I can't believe you people!" Xander shouted. "You're acting like because she's not good looking or refined, she's not worthy to be a slayer!"  
"Xander!" Giles whispered. "That's not what we're saying at all. And please keep your voice down!"

"Did you see the kitten she was holding when we first arrived? Well, I took a look around the trailer and found three more of them, along with two birds and a couple of fish. Those cats were so well-groomed, they could have been on the cover of a magazine. The lining of the bird cage was spotless and the fish tank water was crystal clear. And did you notice that there was a pot of hot chili on the stove?"

"No, Xander, I didn't notice those things," Giles sighed.

"Well, I did. And you know what they tell me? That Erica loves her family. That she takes great care of her pets. And that, despite her dad's past abuse, she still loves him enough to make sure he has a decent meal when he gets home from work.

"Maybe the reason she doesn't take care of herself is because she's too busy taking care of others. And isn't that the textbook definition of a slayer?"

Giles knew Xander's perception had grown immensely since his run-in with Caleb, but there were instances where that attention to detail still stunned him. He removed his glasses and nervously wiped the lenses with his shirt, ashamed of his hasty assessment of Erica. 

"Wow," Dawn said, similarly taken aback. "You really can see everything, can't you?" She kissed Xander on the cheek and hugged him tightly.

"Yeah, well, it's my power. You said so yourself." He hugged her back, closing his eye and letting the wave of sisterly love wash over him.

"Yes," Giles interrupted, putting his glasses back on. "We have work to do training our new slayer. Don't you think we should get cracking on it?"

Xander and Dawn nodded as the three of them went back to the car, loaded up on supplies, and headed back into the trailer.

"Where's your paperwork?" Erica asked, hanging the dishrag on the faucet to dry.

"We'll get to that later," Giles replied. "Are you ready for your first lesson?"

"Suppose so."

"Right." Giles nodded to Dawn, who took out a book from her handbag, and Xander, who removed a stake from his backpack. "Lesson number one – vampires."


End file.
